


Goretober Day 2: Gunshot Wound

by GrassyOrchards



Series: Gore/Inktober 2020 [2]
Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dying thoughts, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Open Ending, gunshot wound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:47:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26945419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrassyOrchards/pseuds/GrassyOrchards
Summary: **Repost from Goretober master post*"Joseph allows his mind to wander as he faces his death. He knew only a few things for certain."
Series: Gore/Inktober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966237
Kudos: 1





	Goretober Day 2: Gunshot Wound

There were many things running through Joseph's mind as he clutched the fresh gunshot wound on his abdomen. The most prominent was that he was going to die. Not far behind that thought was the utterly depressing fact that he was going to die alone. From a wound one of his two partners had given him. 

It was a clean shot despite the panicky way it had been delivered, a jolt, an accident more than anything. Or at least that's what he told himself. It's what he wanted to believe. Kidman was quiet, kept to herself, judged from a distance, but she wasn't… Malicious. Standoffish for sure, but even in his shock, he didn't want to believe her intent had been to kill him. The bullet was meant for Leslie. That kid-There was a brief silver lining in that he was safe, Joseph had to a degree done what he had wanted. The cost was just far greater than drama in the workplace. 

He opens his eyes, focuses on the hazy silhouettes of distant buildings but he slowly forces his gaze downwards until he's instead staring at the small bloody hole through his body. By instinct alone his hand is already pushed up against it, blood seeping between leather coated fingers. It hurts (like hell) but the feeling is faded, pushed to the back of his mind. Like a distant, numb reminder that he was in pain more than the searing agony he should feel. It was a small mercy, or perhaps just a byproduct of the emotional high he was currently spiking through. 

Shifting, he slouches further, breaths short and quick as a leg slides farther away from him. He wonders what everyone is thinking. Did Kidman feel guilt weigh heavy on her back, or did she feel he deserved it? Perhaps she felt nothing at all. Content to press on, and forget all about him. Leslie was too innocent, too damaged, too clueless to even realize what happened. Either way he was probably terrified. Poor kid. And Seb… He had faced so much loss in such a short period of time. And now his partner? His best friend? Shot in front of him. He probably blamed himself, the same way he did when Lily died in that fire. The same way he did when Myra disappeared. His heart spasms painfully with the thought. He didn't want to cause Seb any more pain.

Perhaps it was better this way. He had held Sebastian before him at least once in this hellscape, absolutely overcome with the desire to tear him apart. To sink his teeth in and pull until there was nothing left but bones-And Seb just stared at him, pleaded with the part of him that didn't. And that part of him barely won over. He had wanted to let himself fade away, to give in and surround himself within the cocoon. It made him weak, a pathetic detective really, but more than anything it made him dangerous. Seb was dear to him, one of the last people left alive that he truly and deeply cared for. He would do anything for him. That's why he had to die. 

This place brought out the worst he had to offer, and it desperately wanted to turn him into a mindless monster like most of it's inhabitants were. His darkest thoughts haunted his every move, how easy it would be to give in. Just fall! He was standing on the edge all he had to do was move another inch. Yet it seemed like death awaited him momentary respite. Despite his life bleeding out between his fingers he felt himself, his mind was untampered with, and all he had to face was his own grievances. 

His plan hadn't been to die, but as Joseph lay gasping for breath with his head lolled back the thought seemed nice. Death. A thought that had sat in the back of his head, tempting him many times before. The thought had especially been prevalent here. To be free from everything. The cost was equal however, in that he would also lose everything.

He was not a spiritual man, he had no god's to pray to, no afterlife to look forward to, yet he found himself hoping there was more anyways. That by some slim chance he was more than a heartbeat and some skin, that such a concept as a soul could be plausible. Life hurt too much, maybe he would find something better in what lay beyond it.

Or perhaps he was a foolish man clinging to helpless ideals and dreams. That felt far more realistic.

He blinks, vision fading and body falling farther into a numb embrace. He swears a white-cloaked figure is in front of him, for just a moment, but it's gone before he can say for sure.

What he does know, however, is that he is very, very tired suddenly. And sleep sounds wonderful. He closes his eyes.


End file.
